


Warm Up

by hatebeat



Series: Putting the gears in motion [23]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatebeat/pseuds/hatebeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New York, 1995. Once upon a time, even Dethklok had to worry about things like paying bills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strategossix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strategossix/gifts).



Half-awake, he shoved his feet restlessly, digging to get the blankets wrapped around his heels, but they were already tangled up tightly in several layers of cotton. If only Pickles' toes could get warm, he'd find himself drifting back into that dream that the cold had interrupted- he was sure of it. 

At one point in his life, he'd been used to the cold. It was just a fact of life back then. That was practically a different lifetime, though, at this point. He'd lived in LA and he'd lived in Florida most of the time since leaving his period as some snot-nosed kid behind in Tomahawk, and the only complaints he had about the weather then were when the heat got to be so overbearing that his hair stuck to his neck and face. 

Even that wasn't so bad. It was mostly the same after having really satisfying sex. Just without the sex.

Winter in New York City was decidedly not warm enough for Pickles' liking at this point in his life. It might not have been so bad if the thermostat hadn't ticked all the way down to fifty-something. 

The heat in their apartment was turned off on Thursday, and by time the four of them had scraped together the money to turn it back on and pay their bill on Friday, the office was closed for the weekend. Those weird, confusing hours between Saturday night and Sunday morning found Pickles with not enough blankets to keep warm enough to soundly sleep. The harder he tried to get warm, the less asleep he was, and it pissed him off. It left him itching for a cigarette, but there was no way in hell he was opening a window for that shit, and he sure as fuck wasn't going outside. It was cold enough inside.

Squirming until he was in a blanket cocoon, he rolled right off his mattress and a mass of blankets and crossed the room to Nathan's bed. Pickles tried to be careful, tried to slide into the mattress so that Nathan wouldn't wake up, but one of the blankets caught on his toe and he tumbled messily into the bed. He saw a quick, sharp movement, and realised that Nathan's hand had shot out for the knife he kept next to his bed. Fortunately, Nathan quickly realised he wasn't a real threat.

"Uh... what the hell are you doing?" 

"It's fuckin' cold, dude- share your blankets," Pickles complained, worming his entire body, blanket cocoon and all, underneath Nathan's comforter. 

"Get out of my bed," Nathan grumbled, but he was too sleepy for it to sound menacing. 

"No way, my bed is up against the window, it's like a billion times colder over there!"

"You wanted your bed over there, asshole." Nathan rolled over, facing away.

"Yeah, but I wanted heat, too," Pickles reasoned, and he scooched closer to Nathan's back. His cold feet were under Nathan's comforter now, but he couldn't manage to pull them back inside his own collection of blankets and they were still freezing. He inched his toes forward and stuck them against the back of Nathan's leg, worming one whole set of toes between Nathan's calves.

"What the fuck, Pickles?!" Nathan stiffened up, legs jerking forward to escape the torment of Pickles' toes, but Pickles feet just followed the warmth. "Your feet are ice fucking cold!"

"Yeah, an' you're all nice an' warm! Lemme warm 'em up!"

Nathan had been pushed nearly to the edge of his bed, and Pickles clearly had no intention of surrender. With a great, agitated sigh, Nathan shrugged the comforter up closer to his chin, and pulled it snugly around his arms. 

"Warm up and then go the fuck back to your own bed," he conceded.

"Yeah, okay," Pickles said, a ghost of a grin on his face, but by time daylight crept into the window, the pale sunlight pooled in through the slatted blinds onto Pickles' abandoned mattress.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this drawing](http://skelethal-boy.tumblr.com/post/72145538557/request-for-faceboner-anything-nathan-pickles) by tumblr user [skelethal-boy](http://skelethal-boy.tumblr.com)!


End file.
